


In the Arms of the Serpent

by JaxMan



Series: SpiderSnake [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22834438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaxMan/pseuds/JaxMan
Summary: An Angel/Pentious story I wrote over a month ago. Now available here!
Relationships: Angel Dust/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: SpiderSnake [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641484
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

Scene: Cherri Bomb and Angel Dust are getting drunk at a bar, when Angel begins venting.

"...Which was practically my whole fuckin' paycheck! What the hell?"

Cherri Bomb hated Angel Dust's pimp. She'd never met the guy, not formally, but her friend's drunken rants painted a nasty picture.

"I thought you guys had, like, an agreement or something?"

"Well, yeah, but the fuck does he care? Not like I can do anything about it! He's my pimp, for Christ's sake!"

Yeah, and a fucking asshole, too. Cherri would have busted his skull by now if it weren't for his security. Fucker had more guards than Lucifer.

"That sucks, man." Small comfort, but it was all she could do. Angel gave her a little smile. Good enough, apparently.

"Yeah. It fucking sucks. All I do is work, and I'm still broke. I'm the biggest porn star in hell! How the fuck does that work?"

His shoulders slumped as he dropped his forehead down to the bar. 

"I'm tired of this 'working' shit. I just wanna vacation, or something. I dunno."

"Angel, if you were anyone else, I'd just tell you to get laid."

He groaned and raised his empty glass at the bartender. The surly, boar-like demon poured him another gin and tonic without comment.

"You know, Angel, maybe you *should* get laid." Maybe it was the four beers, two shots of vodka, and a long island iced tea, but that made sense.

He gave her a look, as if to say 'what? That's ridiculous! My whole job is about sex! I get laid plenty!'

It was a lot to say with just a look, but boy, did he manage it.

"Hear me out. You fuck for a living. When's the last time you did it for, you know, fun?"

"Uhh..." He struggled for a bit, but didn't offer an answer.

"Just find someone you want to fuck, and say, 'hey, wanna fuck?'"

"'Hey, wanna fuck?' Really?"

"Works for me." 

"Huh. Maybe you're right." 

"I'm always right, Angel." She wasn't, but the point stood.

"So, who should I-"

Angel paused, and a grin spread across his face. She had to ask.

"Oooh, who ya thinkin' about?" She rested her chin on her palms and tried to meet his gaze.

"Oh, you'll find out." He drained his g&t, set the glass roughly on the counter, and staggered to his feet.

"I gotta go. Don't worry, I'll stay outta trouble." Then with a wink and drunken finger-guns, he stumbled to the door.

The bartender (boartender?) took notice.

"'Ey, you gonna pay, right?"

"It's cool, I'm paying." She usually ended up footing the bill, if she felt like paying at all.

And this was the last bar in the area they weren't kicked out of, so she kinda had to.

Still, Angie going for a hookup! Who would he choose?

...

  
Sir Pentious's lair was impenetrable, that much he knew. Nobody had ever broken in, not the overlords, not that 'Cheri Bomb' hussie, not even the Radio Demon himself. Few had even found the lair, hidden away in its secret location. And who could blame them? He had taken every precaution, kept every secret, spared no-

A knock on the door. Probably some salesman, they were all over hell. Grumbling, he opened the door to find...

A spidery demon in black lingerie staring at him with, bare chest puffed out, stretching leaning against the door frame, seductively.

"Hey, hot stuff-"

"No."

Flustered, he shut the door and turned the lock. Whatever that demon was selling, he had no need. The temptations of hell had nothing on him, not when domination was so close at-

Wait, was that Angel Dust?

Sir Pentious had met this demon before, on less friendly terms. He was Cherri Bomb's... friend? Boyfriend? He wasn't much of one if he showed up undressed at her enemies lair. Overtaken by curiosity, he opened the door, just a crack. The seductive demon was still there. wearing nothing but lingerie and a smirk.

"Don't ya know it's rude to-"

*Slam.* He slithered back to the couch, ready to be free of intruders.

"Egg-boys...?"

Two of them, #181 and #690, answered in near unison.

"Yes, boss?" 

"There's someone at the door-"

"Sure thing, boss! Hey you, come on in!" 

God dammit.

"Aw, thanks! Sorry I uh, killed a buncha you guys."

God.

"Oh, we crave the pleasure of non-existence!"

Dammit.

"Yeah, the default state of matter is non-living! Our deaths only help us achieve this!"

"Oh, uh okay..." At any other time, Angel Dust's face would have been priceless. Now, his absence would have been even better.

"Fine! Fine. I give up! Just tell me what you want, I can tell you 'no,' and then the *egg-boys* here can *escort you out.*"

"Wanna fuck?"

That took a moment to process.

"You... what?!"

The demon just crossed his arms. Smugly.

"You heard me. You want to fuck?"

"Not a secret formula, or-or my unconditional surrender...?"

"Nope."

"Wh...?"

"Just dick. Your dick. You in?"

For the first time in years, Sir Pentious was confused.

"Let me get this clear. You just barge in, nearly nude, and try to..."

"What? I came in and asked if you wanted to fuck! What part of my intentions aren't clear?" Getting frustrated, hmm? That made two of them.

A thought occurred to the serpentine demon.

"You... *have* done this before, right?"

Angel Dust huffed indignantly.

"Yeah, of course! I do it for a living! I'm a professional!"

"You've never had a real date before, have you?" He didn't mean it in an unkind way, it just slipped out. Angel just got more flustered.

"Well of course I have! It's just, ah, been a while."

Sir Pentious, somehow mentally exhausted from their conversation, just rubbed his temples.

"Give me a minute."

There was no way he could accept this offer. He was busy, this was his enemy, and...

"All right. But under one condition!"

God. DAMMIT. He had been lonely for some time, but he was better than this!

"I'm listening." He was, indeed, all puffed-up and cocky, with that little smile.

Pentious paused, sighed, and made his demand.

"You meet me tomorrow, and wear something nice! Gentlemanly! Not... that!"

"So... it's a date?" Could the spider get any more smug?

"Yes. I suppose so."

"Well, alright. See ya then, babe~" Yes, yes he could.

One awkward goodbye later, and Sir Pentious had a date.

Fuck.

...

Scene: Pent and Angel are relaxing in Pent's lair. They have been together for a few days, and are just getting to know each other.

A roaring fireplace, a soft sofa, and a fine bottle of wine. Sir Pentious couldn't imagine a more relaxing scenario.

...Except for a shockingly indecent demon in a sweater that left almost nothing to the imagination. The same one who was currently draped over the side of said couch, sipping the wine directly from the bottle. If the scaly host could still sweat, he was doing so in buckets.

"Ya sure know how to make a demon feel welcome, babe. I hope you don't do this for everybody, hmm?" 

The spidery sinner seductively smiled, sending the shaky serpent shameless signals. Sir Pentious did his very best to look confident, suave, and in control. He surely didn't, but it was the thought that counted, right?

"Ah, of course not! Only the, um..." The serpent's heart was pounding a steady rhythm against his ribcage.

Only Angel, so far, but Sir Pentious wasn't about to say it. That knowledge was too... private for such an occasion. But the spider only raised an eyebrow and widened his smirk. He knew.

"Only the sspecial ones." Sir Pentious tried on a grin, but it didn't quite fit.

That sounded dignified, didn't it?

"So I'm special, huh?" That smirk just kept getting wider, threatening to turn into a grin. 

"Well, ah-" Angel leaned in closer. The serpentine demon leaned back.

"Well...?" Closer. Back.

"Y-" His heart was playing a marching tune, and his breaths were keeping time.

"Well guess what?" He thought he was cold-blooded, but it just kept getting hotter in here...

Spine stiff as a board, face flushed, drunken spider practically laying on top of him (and even playing with his hair!), Sir Pentious managed to squeak out a reply.

"W-what?"

Angel Dust's smirk finally cracked into a wide, promiscuous grin. Surely, thought the serpent, things couldn't get more intense than this.

"I *am* special."

Sir Pentious was wrong..

...

The record player in the corner of the room went silent as the arm swung to its starting position. Truthfully, Angel Dust hadn't even noticed the music. Classical, maybe? A bit stale for his taste. But at least his host wasn't looking so anxious anymore, draped over the seat cushions staring lazily at the ceiling, smiling just a little.

He'd melted in Angel's hands the moment the sweater came off. Well, more of a sweater-dress, but hey, who cares? It looks the same crumpled on the floor. Angel didn't expect Pentious to be so... warm. Both in temperature and temperament. But a gracious host he was indeed, and not a bad fuck either. Not a long one, but still. And his chest made a good pillow for afterward.

"You know, that was quite something. You sure you wouldn't do this on camera?" It was a joke, of course, but Angel enjoyed seeing the snakey boy blush.

"What?! I-" The words caught in Pent's throat as he tried to sputter out a retort. Sure enough, the color started rising in his face. God, he was fun to tease.

"Relax, I'm kidding. Besides, you'd need some more practice before you're ready for *that.*" He reached down, stroking the serpentine demon's waist suggestively. 

Pentious said nothing, only wrapped his arms around Angel and squeezed. Not hard, just firmly. A roaring fireplace, a nice couch, a belly full of wine... Angel Dust couldn't imagine a more relaxing place.

And the shockingly cuddly demon sharing it with him just made it better.

...

Scene: SP and AD are dating, but casually. Neither are willing to open up, except maybe in a literal sense (oh my). Both are at a restaurant, and run into CB, who takes AD aside.

Cherri Bomb had that face. The 'you've got a new boyfriend, huh? Tell me aall about him' face. 

"Sooo, you and Edgelord, huh?"

Angel Dust was nonchalant, as always. 

"Eh, what can I say? He's got some... charm."

"Is it true that hes got... you know..." 

She held up two fingers and made the classic 'jerk-off' gesture. 

That... shouldn't have bothered him. He and Cherri talked about his other flings this way before, why should this be different? He just gave a huff and explained. 

"Hey, I can't spill all the beans, can I? That's between him and me."

But Cherri just doubled down on the teasing. 

"Aww, come on! It's not like you were short on details before..."

"Well, he's different, okay? He's... what can I say..." Angel didn't know how this was different, just that it was. 

The, Cherri dropped the bombshell.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love...!"

Oh.

Fuck.

No.

"Excuse me a moment..."

Angel stepped outside, but his voice could be heard even in the restaurant.

"No. NO! You are a PROFESSIONAL! PROFESSIONALS have STANDARDS! You-you can't just fall in... No! FUCK!"

Cherri Bomb sank into her seat, mortified, as Angel Dust broke down sobbing outside. All of the restaurant's patrons had taken notice of the hysterical man by this point, and an awkward silence gripped the establishment. A few moments of soft crying later, and the onlookers had returned to their business, just in time for the gay spider to walk back in as if nothing had happened.

"So, uh, you... didn't hear that, right?"

"Hear what?" Cherri tried to force a smile, but it looked more like a pained, sympathetic grimace. Angel Dust looked out the window, refusing any kind of eye contact. Not that Cherri was looking for it.

"That's the spirit."

Then returned Sir Pentious, cheerful as can be.

"What did I misss?"

Cherri and Angel answered in unison.

"Nothing!"

Their stilted grins and rigid postures doubtlessly conveyed a lighthearted, jovial attitude.

...

Scene: It's been several weeks since they got together, and their relationship is starting to interfere with AD's other habits and vices.

'You know, it's rude to keep a gentleman waiting, Angel.' 

He never said it aloud, but Sir Pentious certainly wanted to. Didn't the little 'twink,' as his compatriots called him, understand that? Didn't he know how nervous his viperous lover got when he ran late? No. Angel told him not to worry. "I'm not gonna die," he had laughed, "I already got that over with!" It was his excuse for the drugs, the binge-drinking, violence... anything risky, really.

In his human days, Sir Pentious would anxiously bounce his legs. His mother gave him hell for it, but he couldn't stop, even with 'forceful persuasion.' That habit had translated into nervously twitching his tail. It was quite a bit more disruptive, but-

A sudden knock on the thick, wooden door snapped him back to reality. He practically jumped out of his seat, rushed to the door, and opened it to see... A drunk spider clutching the frame, struggling to maintain his footing.

"Hey, hot stuff..." He wasn't just drunk. What else was he on? Opium?

"Angel! Are you al-" He didn't want to sound too alarmed, but he could never keep secrets from the soft little demon.

"All the better for seeing you, babe." Angel Dust's eyes hazily tried to focus on his as a sloppy grin spread across his face. The inebriated sinner collapsed onto Sir Pentious's chest, holding on with six spindly arms, and stared up at him.

"Now are we doin' this, or what?" Angel was always... direct, but this was something else. 

"You... You need rest. Come on, dear." This wasn't the first time Angel had showed up drunk, high, or both. But he'd never been this badly intoxicated.

"Aw, come on, Penny. I don't need rest! I need COOOCK." His eyes snapped into focus, inches away from his. A manic, toothy smile formed on that last word, as the stench of hard liquor filled the room. Was that... powder under his nose? Sir Pentious had been alive when cocaine became popular, he had even gotten it from the doctor. If he had known it could cause this, he would have never touched the stuff.

"Couch. Come with me-"

"Oh, I'll *come* with you, aalriight..." Angel lost his grip, crashing to the ground in a laughing mess.

"G-get it? CUM with you?"

This was going to be a long evening.


	2. Chapter 2

Scene: Angel Dust just spent the night sobering up at SP's place, and the two of them have a heart-to-heart conversation.

When he was alive, Angel Dust didn't think that hell could possibly be worse than a bad hangover. What torture, what burning pit of brimstone could be worse than having your brain crushed in a vicegrip while your stomach ties itself in knots? What could be worse than feeling like your bones were made of napalm?

He hadn't considered that there would be hangovers in hell, too.

"Are you awake?" That was Pent's voice. He wasn't even trying to hide his worry this time. Fuck, when would he stop being so nervous?

"...eh, sort of..." It was the truth. How did Angel even get here? What the fuck was he on last night?

"Would you like some tea?" There it was. The attempt at optimism, hanging off a thick core of concern.

Could he even keep it down? A thought occurred.

"I, uh, didn't yak all over the carpet, did I?" The last thing he wanted was to mess up Pent's place.

"...No, why do you ask?" Oh, hell. He was such a bad liar.

"Ah, fuck, I'm sorry." He paused, unsure whether to go on.

"I'm sorry I got fucked up, and I'm sorry you gotta see me like this. I'll-"

"Angel, it's alright-" 

That was a lie.

"I can just get- get a fuckin' mop, or-" He tried to get up, but his body had other ideas.

"Angel, don't-" Pent's tone took an edge. Was he angry? Well, he had the fuckin' right to be. Angel had walked in, puked all over the floor, and they didn't even fuck. What the hell kind of evening was that?

"If, if I can just..." His body resisted another attempt to stand. He wasn't just going to sit around and be useless, he was going to fix the mess he'd made.

"Please-" Why did Pent have to be so fucking kind? Letting him stay overnight when he was too high to put out, cleaning up after him, tolerating him for who knows how long...

"I- I just-" He was going to get up, clean the place, and give Pent the BJ he deserved for putting up with all this.

"Fucking LISTEN TO ME!"

Angel Dust snapped to look at Sir Pentious's face, as tears rolled down the scaly demon's cheeks and neck. Did Pent just curse? That was... uncommon. But he quickly found his composure, and continued.

"Fucking... listen. Please. You're always drunk, or high, or both. You're always trying to convince me to... have my way with you."

"I'm-"

"Stop." Pent took a quick, deep breath. "It's as if you don't know anything other than sex and drugs."

Angel had heard this all before, back when he was alive. How sex, drugs, and booze were the devil's pastimes. But he made his choices, and so had Sir Pentious. So where the fuck was he going with this?

"Do you even remember what it's like to be in love?"

That... was a curveball. He'd met some obsessed fans, sure. They thought they were in love with him. He'd had some flings, but none lasted that long...

"Because I remember." The tears were coming back, with interest. He continued:

"And it felt like this, right now."

What... what could he even say after that? 'Sorry, pal, but ya got the wrong guy?' 'Yes, dear, let's get married this Sunday?' No. Angel Dust didn't do that. He fucked, he drank, and he made pornos. But before he could say anything, Pent jumped in.

"It's sudden, I know. And I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, or anything of the sort. I just want you to take some time and think it over. Come back when you've made a choice between your old ways or something new."

The next hour was spent getting Angel back onto his feet, calling the Hotel, and convincing them that this wasn't some kind of trap. As Angel Dust sluggishly staggered to the hotel taxi, dreading the earful he'd get from Vaggie, Pent stopped him.

"One more thing, Angel." He sounded almost sorry.

"Yeah?"

"You're- more than just a pretty face and some erotic talent. Even if nobody else sees it that way." He sounded almost mournful.

Angel tried to give a smile, as if he hadn't heard that from everybody else who'd tried to get into his pants.

"Thanks, Pent."

Nobody chewed him out on the ride back to the hotel. Maybe he looked too miserable already. Maybe they could tell that he was trying to make a decision.

What the fuck was he going to do?

...

Scene: AD is weighing his love for SP against his persona, friendship with CB, job, and addictions. He asks some drunk demon for advice.

"Bros before hoes, man." At least, that's what it sounded like. The wretch could hardly sit up after all that booze.

The Slippy Mick Bar somehow seemed even more depressing than usual. Maybe it was the sticky floor (hopefully alcohol, but Angel Dust knew better than to ask), or the dim lighting that just barely concealed the stains on the walls. Or maybe it was the drunken sinner next to him ranting advice.

"Uh, what? Is that, like, some kinda slang?" AD had tried to keep up with pop culture since his death, but it always seemed to change when he wasn't looking. What the fuck did 'groovy' mean? What about 'bitches be trippin?' The fuck was a 'Yeet?' Maybe that's how Pent felt around him.

"Look, man, you can't put some bitch between you and your fam. She's just gonna get on some other dude's dick, an' you gonna be aaall alone." The demon looked like he was about to cry. Fuck, that would be pathetic.

But 'fam?' Like, 'Family?' Shit, this drunkass might be onto something. CB, Molly, and Arakniss were his family down here. Molly and 'Rakkie would understand, But Cherri? Who'd fight with her in the turf wars? Who'd shoot up the block - or just shoot up - with her? And what about his job? Angel hadn't taken any roles since he and Pent had started dating! And how the fuck could he pay for rent, let alone pay his boss, without a job?

"Ah, shit. You know what? You're right. I can't just let..."

Angel turned to look at the (unexpectedly wise) drunk, only to see the unconscious tramp face down on the bar.

"*Tsk,* well, I gotta go.' The slender demon mustered up a hopeful smile. Not a genuine one, but he'd had enough practice that even he hardly knew the difference. He'd finally gotten over this little... 'emotional speedbump.' He'd have to tell Pent, of course, but that would come later. For now, he could just sit back, get high, and go give Cherri the news.

...

"Eyyy, what the FUCK is up, my dude?" Cherri Bomb was already drunk, of course. Angel would have been surprised to see her sober. Surprised, and worried. She was only sober(ish) when something was wrong.

The warehouse-turned-hideout was the same as ever, fucking terrifying. Mountains of explosives, chemicals, and scrap, all to be assembled into bombs of every size and shape. Combine that with a collapsing roof, crumbling concrete, and a perpetually fucked-up madwoman, and you have a recipe for disaster.

"Hehey, Cherri! How ya been?" No, that sounded wrong. Like he was trying to act natural. But he wasn't *acting* natural, this *was* natural. Just another day, another breakup, soon to be followed by another drug-fueled bender with his best friend. All normal.

"Hey, hey Angel." Cherri was slumping over a half-assembled grenade, dark circle under her eye, and a loose grin over her face. This wasn't just alcohol. Had she been taking downers?

"Yeah, what's up? You got a, uh, project there?" Fuck, he hated being the sober one. Mostly sober, anyway.

"Oh, yeah. Just a little something I been working on." Holy hell, this lady was on something good. She could barely focus. Probably explained why she hadn't even looked at him since he arrived.

"Huh. Neat." She hadn't even added any explosives to it. Just a shell, a fuse, and nothing else. That was.. probably for the best.

"Hey, you still dating Edgelord?" She didn't mean anything by it, of course, but the slender, effeminate demon still winced. He wanted to tell her that his name wasn't 'Edgelord,' that he was actually really nice, that they'd been dating for... *were* dating, for...

The tears welled in his eyes as his cheerful facade cracked. It was stupid, it could never work, he was a whore, for fuck's sake! He knew better than to get attached!

So why the fuck did he?

Why the fuck did he love this man so much?

His face must have said enough, because she was already wrapping him up in a big, drunken hug.

"What'd he do to you? I'll cut his fucking dick off..." she crooned. She may have been destructive, power-hungry, and high as fuck, but God damn, did she know how to comfort a friend.

"H-he did the worst *f-fucking* thing you can do to someone like, like m-me..." The facade finally crashed away, and he was sobbing into her shoulder. No point trying to hide it. He was just a big, sloppy, pathetic mess.

"What'd he do?" Like a fucking dove.

Angel took a moment to regain his composure and salvage any dignity he had left.

"F-fucker made me fall in love with him."

Cherri gave a soft, tearful chuckle. Shit, was she crying, too?

"God, Angie. You're fucking pathetic." Yeah, she was crying.

They could have stayed there forever, but some jackhole passerby had to interrupt.

"Hey, you two get a fuckin' room!"

"God dammit, we were having a moment, asshole!"

"Yeah, mind your fuckin' business!"

It was nice while it lasted.

...

Scene: SP is in his lair, a few days after sending AD back to the hotel.

A cold fireplace. A thrice emptied wineglass. An old, shabby couch, too large for its single occupant.

And no Angel Dust.

Sir Pentious couldn't have imagined a more uncomfortable setting.

He hadn't been too forceful, had he? His tail twitched nervously as he stared at the ceiling, plagued by every possible scenario. Except for the good ones, where Angel returned unharmed, never touched that damned cocaine again, and they lived happily ever after. That possibility was strangely absent.

He would return, surely? The twitching turned to thrashing as little, nagging fears swam through the viperous demon's mind. What if he didn't come back? What if he came back stinking of liquor, high on whatever he'd been on last time? What if Angel chose his vices over love? What if Angel never loved him in the first place?

Sir Pentious glanced at the wineglass on the end table. A bit more, to calm the nerves? The memory of his lover's semi-lucid, drunken face flashed in his mind. Sobriety it was.  
He'd waited before. He'd waited for decades to see his wife, before realizing that she didn't end up here. He waited even longer for his son, but to no avail. How long had it been? A century? He could hardly remember their faces anymore. The anger had faded over the years, leaving the sorrow to weigh on him. He could hide it, but he could never escape. And now, the thought of losing someone else... They were only together a few weeks! How could it hurt this much?

Then, a hard knock at the door.

He froze, shocked, for just a moment before racing over, heart in his throat, and opened it for...

"Cherri Bomb?"

She leaned on the frame, arms crossed, eye narrowed on him.

"Sup."

...

She expected a fanged smirk, not a baggy-eyed mess. Still, this was Edgelord, so he obviously had a plan. That plan must have involved moping about and looking completely pathetic. If so, it was off to a good start.

"Sup." She was taken aback, but he wasn't about to know that.

He just stared at her, confused. 'Genius master of deception,' her ass.

"Is... Is Angel..." God, he even sounded drunk!

"He's fine. Back at the hideout." 'Fine' was an overstatement, 'sleeping off a hangover after you fucking manipulated him into whatever the fuck you were planning' would have been more apt. Not as concise, though.

The snake looked almost relieved. Were his eyes getting watery?

"Are you crying?" Cherri didn't even know he could cry. Do snakes have tear ducts?

"N-no..." he replied, eyes watering. What the fuck happened to the dastardly maniac she had been fighting just last month? Had he really withered into this weeping wretch? She gave a pitiful sigh. This... would be difficult. But she had to do it.

"Look. Angel Dust and I make mistakes. We get blackout drunk, we get into fights, and get into more trouble than either of us can remember."

Edgelord didn't interject or ask what she was on about, he just listened. Good boy.

"What I'm saying is that Angel, he doesn't always make the right choice. Neither do I, really."

He looked confused, but still didn't interrupt. Maybe he didn't have the energy.

"Yesterday, we went on a bender, smashed a few shop windows, you know the drill." Good times.

She couldn't quite place the expression on the demon's face. Fear? Sorrow? Resignation? All she knew was that the waterworks were starting up again. 

"It was our last one ever."

That got the fucker's attention, didn't it?

"After we sobered up, he told me that he'd made his choice." Then the sorry bastard cried into her arms all night. 

"So that's where you come in." A stupid twinge of emotion crept into her voice. She refused to give in to it.

"You won't be another one of his mistakes. And letting you get to him, won't be one of mine."

Her voice was cracking. Fuck.

"And if you try to come between us, or turn him against me, or anything like that..." 

She took a moment to breathe, to find her cool, and looked him in the eye.

"It's gonna be your mistake."

A smile grew under his big, dumb, wet eyes. He stretched out his arms and-

"Hug me and I stab you."

"N-noted."

...

After their joyful reunion, Angel Dust and Sir Pentious stayed together to this very day. Of course, Angel's habits never vanished entirely, and would prove quite problematic for the couple. Not that he didn't try to improve. The two would stay in the serpent's lair, living their lives and doing as they do. A certain princess of hell would often invite the two over, beaming excitedly at the prospect of their redemption, though they would only ever stay for tea.

Some say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Perhaps that's why the staff of the 'Happy' Hotel would almost miss the spidery scoundrel. Or perhaps he was simply more tolerable sober. Charlie, in particular, would be inspired by their bond, seeing it as proof that all demons could better themselves. Even her darling Vaggie would agree that the two were better off than before. Alastor was simply glad that they were gone.

Though the absence of Angel Dust would bother few at the Hotel, it would infuriate a pimp named Valentino. Certainly, that will one day make good entertainment. But until then, good night...  
...and stay tuned.


End file.
